The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)(133)

Sandcliff Castle shuddered in agreement.

“Earlier tonight,” James said, “I asked if I made my own decisions. You said I did. Let me make this one now.”

“I can’t lose you too, James.”

“It’s not just you anymore, Tobiah.” James glanced at me, Melanie, and everyone standing on the overlook, praying for a miracle to stop the wraith. “It’s the entire kingdom. There’s only a little of the world left. Someone has to take care of it.”

Tobiah looked at me for help. “Say something.”

“I can’t.” A sob lodged in my throat. “I don’t want to lose him, either, but what kind of queen would I be if I gave Chrysalis a choice, but not James? What kind of friend?”

“A friend who doesn’t want to lose one of the people they love most?” Tobiah lifted his palms in supplication. “I need your help, Wil. Command him. Change his mind.”

I shook my head, just slightly. Everything spun. “He’s not mine to command. He never has been. He’s a person, Tobiah.”

Tobiah hissed through gritted teeth, lifting his eyes to the sky.

“Would I be enough?” James asked Chrysalis. “If I did this with you, would Aecor be safe? Would the barrier work like Mirror Lake?”

Chrysalis bit his lip.

“Tell the truth,” I said.

The wraith boy nodded. “The two of us, yes. We’d be stronger. There’s so much magic in you after all these years. You don’t know half of what you could do.”

“No.” Lady Rayner let out a long, low wail. “No, James.”

Tobiah blinked back tears. “How can you even know that?”

“I’m made of wraith.” Chrysalis offered him a sad smile. “I know what I wouldn’t touch.”

“All right,” James said. “What do we do?”

Tobiah grabbed James’s shoulders. “No. I forbid you. You can’t.”

The queen mother and her sister urged James to listen to his king, but his focus was all on Chrysalis’s instructions.

“We jump. We dive in and grab the barrier, and we push. My queen will need to command the barrier to accept us.”

Tobiah spun toward me. “Don’t do it. Don’t tell the barrier anything.”

James pressed a hand on his king’s shoulder. “Then I’ll be dead for nothing. It’s a long drop.”

“You’ve already been impaled. A drop won’t hurt you.”

James snorted a laugh. “I’m going to say good-bye, cousin. Please don’t deny me. Please.”

Tobiah threw his arms around James’s shoulders, squeezing him tight. “I can’t say good-bye.”

James hugged him back, both of them unguarded in this burst of affection. “Then say, ‘You’re welcome.’ You and Wil gave me ten years of life. You gave me family. You gave me purpose.”

“Then you’re welcome,” Tobiah murmured. “And thank you for—for everything. You were always there when I needed you.”

Quickly, James hugged his friends, his aunt, and his mother, pausing to whisper something in her ear. I couldn’t hear it, and the angle was wrong for me to read his lips, but whatever he said, she just touched his cheek and said she loved him.

He came to me last. “I think Oscar will make a good replacement for head of castle security. Or Ferris, if you want to send Oscar off to his estate when this is over.”

“Shut up.” My jaw trembled with exhaustion and grief, but I hugged him and kissed his cheek. “You were always real to him. To me. To everyone who knew you.”

“Thank you.” He pulled away, unbuckled his sword sheath, and pressed it into Tobiah’s hands. Without a word, he moved toward the edge. “Coming, Chrysalis?”

The wraith boy had barely moved through all this, just stood there and watched. No one had wanted to hug him.

I did. Gently, I wrapped my arms around him. “If I could do it again,” I whispered, “I’d get to know you better.”

He didn’t respond, just joined James on the ledge, whispering instructions or assurances. I couldn’t tell.

Tears streaked down my face, cold against the wraith-heated night. Tobiah pressed himself against my side, and Melanie on the other. Everyone gathered around us, many openly weeping. We left a space between James and Chrysalis and us, like moving too close would shatter the moment as they stepped onto the railing.

“I can’t watch.” Tobiah spoke so that only I could hear.

“You must.” I slipped my ungloved hand into his, and the barrier piece pressed between us. “James’s biggest desire was always to protect you. That’s what he’s doing now. You must honor him.”

Tobiah gripped my hand so tightly it felt like my bones scraped together, but neither of us looked away as James and Chrysalis stepped off the rail and leapt into the Red Bay.

“Accept them,” I whispered to the anchor scale. “Let their magic be spread throughout the ring. Make their sacrifice matter.”

A double splash sounded.

The scale turned hot in my palm, scalding, but the sudden relief was immeasurable. Burden lifted. The slow drain of magic I’d lived with for so long—it was gone.

My knees buckled, but Tobiah and Melanie held me up as white light speared the sky.